Any Other Way
by Meredith Trainor
Summary: Bobby never wanted Mark or Courtney to become involved. But they did, so that's over. Or is it? What happens when he must choose between one of them? And what implications does this hold for the future? Yaoi slash, don't like don't read.
1. Extended Camping Trip

**Any Other Way**

Summary: Bobby never wanted Mark or Courtney to become involved. But they did, so that's over. Or is it? What happens when he must choose between one of them? And what implications does this hold for the future? Yaoi slash, don't like don't read.

_Chapter One: Extended Camping Trip_

Author's Note: This is purely fictional, not set during any specific Pendragon book (those are complicated enough without my help. Just know that it's before KEM, before dados, but sometime after Veelox. Kay? No storyline involved. I don't own anything, except my laptop and my excuse for an imagination.

* * *

"Cyahtvla!" Saint Dane had screamed into the flume. Defeated once again, the demon had fled into the time-space continuum.

"What now?" A breathless Courtney Chetwynde asked. They were standing at a fork in the road. Bobby didn't take time to analyze the situation. Instead, he stepped up the the flume.

"Second Earth!" He said confidently. "No way I'm putting you two in danger again."

Courtney opened her mouth to protest, but before she could say a word Mark Dimond stepped up. It was an awkward gesture, but it communicated what was meant. Resigned, Courtney followed Bobby and Mark into the flume. The colors and sights whirled around them once more, but the young acolyte couldn't enjoy them as she first had. They were going to be left back on Earth, left alone like before. Why did this bother her? Maybe that taste of adventure was too much for Courtney. Mark didn't seem to have a problem with it.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was peevish. She didn't like any progressive action, because it all meant Bobby was leaving soon. The pen in his hand never stopped moving, though.

"Something I should have been doing all along."

"Which is?" She hadn't meant to sound so testy. She looked to Mark for support, but he was lost in space, staring out the window as if the world he saw would vanish if he took his eyes off it for one instant.

"I'm writing a letter of introduction to the acolyte on Cyahvtla. I want to know more about this territory, before I go in. Can't afford to be surprised on this one." His voice rose as he read aloud.

"To the Cyahtvlan Acolyte:

Greetings from Second Earth! This is Bobby Pendragon, Lead Traveler. I m about to join you very shortly, but I need to know the ways of your territory. In short, what is happening there that could cause a conflict? Also, what are your customs? Do you live in desert, jungle, city, or by water? Are you human, or some other intelligent creature? Sorry if this seems crazy, but if you know anything about Traveling, you know it can be unpredictable. I'm just trying to get an angle on Cyahtvla before I arrive.

Sincerely,

Bobby Pendragon"

There was a tense silence. Mark had come away from the window and stood behind Courtney, and the two friends watched Bobby's face. He seemed outwardly stoic, but they knew him better. Once again it was Courtney who spoke.

"It's a little distant, but I guess that makes sense. After all, we don't know if this guy's on our side, or..." her voice trailed off pathetically.

"Yea," Bobby agreed, "I just want information. I'm not about to say, "Oh, by the way, there's a sadistic demon on his way to destroy your territory." I'm not retarded."

"I never said you were! Chill out, Bobby!" But it was evident that she was the one who needed cooling down. Instead of speaking, Bobby activated his ring and sent the letter on its way.

"Here goes nothing."

It was several minutes before they had a reply. Several long, anxious minutes, wherein Courtney paced, Mark picked up a newspaper and locked his gaze on the same place, and Bobby tried unsuccessfully to keep his eyes trained on one spot in the room. When at last the ring activated again, all three jumped and hurried to the table to read the accompanying piece of paper.

It was written in flourishing handwriting, the kind seen in Shakespearean plays. Bobby groaned to see that every S was written as an F, which highly complicated things.

"Hello, and hail to the Lead Traveler! I am Katya, acolyte to Speaker, our Traveler here in Cyahtvla. I apologize for the alias, but it is necessary in our profession. I must explain the state of affairs here in Cyahtvla.

Very recently, our government has reverted from an advanced democracy to a dictatorship. An oligarchy, to be exact. The State has demanded the immediate industrialization of our capitol city, which until a year ago was the cultural center of our world. Now the arts have been replaced with crude technology, and many art forms have been banned. We are the Underground, the resistance movement. I cannot explain everything on paper, so I'll close now.

Oh! A request from Speaker. Bring your acolyte. We will prepare accomodations for you and him or her in our hideout, as well as two of our Hiilos for transportation.

Looking forward to meeting you!

~Katya von Itaelik"

The signature was curly and embellished, as was most of the letter. But it was the command that attracted their attention. Everyone spoke at once.

"Bring your acolyte? Who the hell--" - Courtney

"Why is he called--" - Mark

"How long has--" - Bobby

Immediately they stopped and simultaneously apologized: "Sorry! Go ahead."

Bobby began to speak again, but Courtney verbalized his intent.

"Who are you going to take?" He was quiet.

"Why do you have to choose?" Mark asked quietly. "But if you need to, you should take Courtney."

He looked down at the floor, as if to affirm his unspoken assertion that she would be more aggressive, more useful in their journey. Bobby did nothing for a full minute. Then he looked past them, at the teal kitchen wall, and said,

"I'm going to Cyahtvla, and Mark is coming with me."


	2. Industrial Revolution

_Any Other Way_

**Chapter Two: Industrial Revolution**

Author's Note: Wow. This Chapter is way longer than I anticipated! Good luck, guys.

* * *

_"Dear Courtney,_

_I know keeping journals is usually Bobby's thing, but he's kind of busy at the moment. Well, we're all busy, but his job is way more important right now. I asked Katya if I could write you, and she agreed to lend me her typewriter so I could get this down._

_Cyahtvla is unlike any place I've ever seen. No, I take that back. I've never been to Europe, but I've heard it's like living in a museum-- you see ancient ruins right next to a modern skyscraper. That's exactly what Cyahtvla reminds me of. The first day here was, to say the least, an eye-opener. Despite all Bobby's told us, and all we've seen, I was totally unprepared for what we'd find._

_We stepped out of the flume and into the darkness. I was just stunned, but Bobby seemed to be searching for something. I started to ask him what to do, but he motioned for me to shush._

_"Quigs." He said, and my blood ran cold. Where were they? How would we fight them?_

_"Somewhere to our left. Something big." I looked, and to my horror, the room was getting light enough that I could see a row of bookshelves (all emptied) and beside them, on the wall, a faint silhouette. It was indeed huge. And quadruped. And monstrous. While I shivered, Bobby was looking for weapons. But among the strange new clothing, there was nothing. He swore under his breath. The quig was coming closer, and all we had to defend ourselves were our on hands. This didn't look good. The monster, which I now saw to be something like a cross between a cougar and a gorilla (black, tough hide, but claws and ears like a cat), stalked us like a hunter sizing up his prey. Then he lunged, and I closed my eyes._

_The blow I anticipated never came. Instead, I found upon opening my eyes again that the beast had crumpled to the ground, unexpectedly. Bobby and I stood in awe of the person behind it, a bloody dagger held upright in her slender hand._

_"I've been expecting you," Katya said. "Please follow me." When we reached the source of the light (a single black-light bulb, hanging from an old-fashioned cord in the ceiling), she spoke again, and I noticed her accent was something like German._

_"Why have you not dressed? You cannot go out into the streets in Second Earth apparel. Did you not find suitable clothing outside the flume?"_

_I didn't know how to answer that, but Bobby replied angrily,_

_"It's a little hard to change with a monster attacking you!"_

_She smiled. "Very well, then. I'll wait for you here. If you see another quig, just let me know."_

_As we dressed, I wondered what kind of people these were. Katya's clothing was very different from these. She wore a long coat, like something from Sherlock Holmes, and her shoes were feminine black heels. But for us, there were collared shirts and navy suit jackets. I hoped Cyahtvla had a cooler climate. I was already sweating down here. After we dressed and emerged into the light, she beamed and complimented us about how we looked. I thought Bobby would retort her, but he just shook his head._

_"Let's go."_

_The streets of Cyahtvla's Capitol (which is all the call it, "The Capitol") are narrow cobblestone paths, winding between huge antiquated buildings. But the strange thing is, every few blocks you see construction teams, very similar to the ones on Earth, tearing up the roads and pouring a type of brown cement on the walkway. Oh yea, there are no cars. But we have seen a few of these carriage-looking things, pulled by what looks like a tractor engine. It all seems very crude to me, but that's not the weirdest thing. What really got me was the quiet of the city. Once, we passed a penniless musician playing an instrument that vaguely resembled a harp on the side of the road. The people reacted very strangely. They would look at him almost wistfully, then hurry away, as if he had some contagious disease. Then I saw why. Just as we passed him, a policeman approached, billy-club held high. I swear, no matter what territory you're in, law enforcement never changes. Bobby moved as if to help the musician, but Katya grabbed his arm._

_"Don't do anything stupid. We need you. Keep moving." And so the unfortunate man was led down the street, his hands tied behind his back. I wondered what would happen to him. Courtney, all he was trying to do was play some music. Is that so wrong???_

_What seemed like hours later, we passed a sign saying, "Capitol city limits" and Katya motioned for us to wait there. She took off running into the woods, a dense forest just outside the city's walls. But before I could get really worried, she returned, riding something surprisingly modern._

_A motorcycle._

_Okay, not really a motorcycle, duh. It was closer to a moped, the way it was built. But as she told us, it goes fast. It's one of those Hiilos we read about, and as we hopped on the back, I had the same feeling I get from jumping into a flume."_

Mark paused as he typed. There was no way he'd tell Courtney this, even in a letter, but there was something highly odd about that time. When they'd mounted the Hiilo, Mark had gotten behind Katya, and Bobby sat behind Mark. That wasn't unusual, except that Mark always thought Bobby should ride in front. It seemed to fit the hierarchy. Traveler in front, acolyte in back. And that wasn't the worst of it. Mark had been friends with Bobby for years, but he wasn't prepared to have the Traveler's hands around his waist as they sped along the forest path. It was exhilarating, and not just because of the speed. A twisting sensation gripped Mark's stomach as he keyed the typewriter. He was disgusted to admit to himself that he had enjoyed having Bobby hold him. That was so wrong. He shook off the thought and kept typing.

_"She was right: those things go wicked fast. In no time we had cleared the forest and headed for the hills. This territory is beautiful, Courtney. You'd love it here."_

That was a bit harsh, but he'd already typed it. There was no erasing. He might as well go ahead.

_"I don't know why Bobby decided to bring me, but I'm sorry. I wish you were here."_ That was good enough. If he typed any more, she might sense a lie. He began a new paragraph.

_"We rode for a while longer, and then we saw the sun setting over the mountains. As we sloped downward, I saw a gate that seemed to appear out of nowhere. Instead of going around it, we kept up pace. I got a little nervous. Maybe there was some security post, maybe Katya had all-access and the gates would begin to open as we got closer. They didn't. We were yards away from it._

_"Katya! Slow down!" Bobby yelled, but she ignored him. I was about to jump for it, but Bobby was still holding on to me. So we braced ourselves for the crash._

_This is so cool, Courtney. The gate wasn't real!! Or maybe it was. Maybe it was like one of those laser censors, like you see in James Bond movies. Maybe Katya had some kind of tag on her Hiilo that allowed us to pass through. Maybe it's magic. I'd have believed anything at that moment. I was just thankful to be in one piece. Anyway, Katya finally slowed down as we approached a structure, like a garage, and she parked the Hiilo. When we climbed down, I was a little unsteady."_

Mark refused to tell how he'd almost collapsed, and Bobby caught him, causing Mark to turn bright red and stutter that he was fine. He continued the paragraph.

_"We weren't noticed until we entered the first building, a huge black stucco edifice covered in ivy. I've never seen anything like it, on Earth or in Halla. Immediately it seemed we were crowded. A young child came and took our coats, two more servants offered us drinks, while Katya tried to shoo the others away. They persisted, and only backed off when we heard a new voice._

_"Pendragon! So good of you to come."_

_The owner of this voice was dressed similarly to Katya, although her coat was pitch-black, like the building, and its collar came up to her neck. She also wore black heels, the same leathery material as her gloves. But what we noticed first was her mask. Unlike everyone else we'd seen so far, she wore a black mask that shone with tiny emeralds, accentuating her eyes. It hid about half of her face, and wasn't obscured in the least by her hair, which was partly pulled back and fell just below her shoulders._

_It turns out, this was Speaker. From Katya's letter, I was expecting someone… taller. More masculine. Don't take that the wrong way, Courtney!! I know, girls can be powerful! But from the way she walked, and gave commands like she owned the place, I was stunned to see she was a young woman. The Traveler from Cyahtvla. I stood behind Bobby as he introduced us, and she soon dispersed the small throng of people._

_"Come upstairs to my study. We have much to discuss." That was an understatement. We followed her silently up the main staircase, then down a hallway to a door that opened into more stairs. As we walked, then climbed, I couldn't help gaping at all we saw. Statues, paintings, frescoes and wax figures. Some were ancient, and reminded me of Michelangelo's David, or the Last Supper, while others were modern, and could have come straight from Soho, New York. There were also costumes framed along the walls, elaborate dresses with high collars, animal costumes with what looked like real skins, and suits of armor. Speaker saw us looking around and smirked._

_"Do you like my collection?" She asked proudly as we climbed. "At the start of industrialization, nearly a year ago, artisans from all over Cyahtvla came to me, bringing their most precious works. You see," and here her voice dropped mournfully, "Left where they were, they would have been destroyed. The museums are not safe. The libraries are not safe. Fiction disappears more and more everyday, replaced by manuals and guidebooks. Even the Cyahtvlan Royal Theater, once the hub of society, has been closed without notice. At first people protested. Now, those who once cared are too afraid to speak up."_

_Bobby replied bluntly, "You aren't."_

_We saw her mouth smile, and we could only assume her eyes did too._

_"Yes. We haven't given up."_

_Speaker's study is a thing of wonder. When you think of a private library, you think maybe a room or two of books, a globe, maybe a small statue or a map. Speaker's had four tower rooms, all connected by an antique elevator that was operated with a hand-crank._

_"First floor: theology and poetry. Second floor, history, through the 17th century. Third floor, history through modern days. Fourth floor, private arts. We'll take the third floor. I have things to show you."_

_And so we ascended. There was a cluster of old couches, like the ones Cleopatra would have used, and at the center of the room there was a pendulum, swinging cyclically over a pond of freshwater, with real fish swimming in it._

_"Bluefish. My favorite. But we haven't come to chat about pets. Sit down. That's . Are you hungry? I'll have some refreshment brought up." Without waiting for an answer, she pressed a button on the banister surrounding the pendulum._

_"Yes, Speaker?"_

_"A sampler plate for our guests, and my usual."_

_"Right away, Speaker." There was a click._

_"Why do they treat you like a god? Are you some kind of queen? Or have you just brainwashed them into following you?"_

_She stopped smiling and looked Bobby dead in the eyes._

_"I only have the best interests of my country in heart. Cyahtvla needs a strong leader. When the turning point of our territory arrives, I will be there. Our people will need guidance, and I will provide it. We will not fall. I promised them that, and I never break my word." Quite a speech. But she wasn't finished yet._

_"What would have happened to First Earth during World War II if not for Winston Churchill and Roosevelt? Yes, I know your world better than you think. I was there when Normandy was breached. I saw Auschwitz. I saw Birkenau. And I'll be damned if the same thing happens here. I will not let my people be obliterated."_

_"Who's trying to obliterate you?"_

_"The government. This may sound paranoid, but the devastation of our culture, our practices is only the first step. Your Nazis had a Master Race. Our government is trying the same approach. Those who are efficient, those who know math, business, technology, will succeed. Those who don't will be cast off. Humanities, in both senses of the word, do not amount to anything in the eyes of our current dictator."_

_"And who is that? Another woman?" I wasn't the only one feeling a little tired of affirmative action._

_"No. You haven't seen any of Cyahtvla if you think women can take power. Sure, you see me in charge of the Underground, but on the outside women are very close to slaves. A woman's place is in the kitchen. Teaching children. Raising her daughter to be just like her. It's the woman's fault if the man is a failure. These are the stereotypes we are fighting every day."_

_"What about you? What about Katya?"_

_"Katya? Her job is nothing like mine. She works as a spy for me, a maid in the Yessler's house. He is like your Vice President, our ruler's greatest confidant. And she serves his drinks." There was a humorous edge to her voice._

_"But what do you want us to do?"_

_"I need you to help me kill him."_

_

* * *

_

Author's Note: So, what do you think? Too melodramatic? I'm working on the romance, but as you know, this is an adventure series. The plot comes first! But don't worry, I have an idea. ;) Reviewers get cookies, and a new chapter!


	3. The Full Story

Any Other Way

Chapter Three: The Full Story

Author's Note: There must be something special about this story. I can't stop writing! Hope you guys appreciate this one; I skipped youth group to get it down! Oh yea, it's from Bobby's POV. Just thought I'd mix it up a little.

* * *

"But what do you want us to do?"

"I need you to help me kill him."

My jaw must have dropped, and I heard Mark gasp. She started to continue, but at that moment there was a knock at the door, and a cheery voice announced, "Comida!"

"Entra," Speaker said distractedly, never taking her eyes off my face. A cute young boy in what could pass for Second Earth street clothes came in, bearing a rather large tray filled with covered dishes, and a bottle in his other arm. He sat all of this down on a table I hadn't previously noticed, and wheeled said table over to the three of us. Then he stood at Attention.

"Thank you, Claer. You're excused." He left grinning, and I couldn't help but smile at his adorable naivety.

"Try the wine, Pendragon. It's to die for." She paused. "I mean that figuratively." Mark gave his nervous laugh, but I didn't say anything.

"Well at least have some hors d'oeuvres. Baked clams, Ghana steak, tortellini?" The food certainly smelled good, but I was suspicious. Mark didn't touch anything; he seemed to be waiting for my go-ahead.

"Tell us more about you. Who are you, really, Speaker?" I said, hoping to throw her off-guard. It didn't quite have the desired effect. She sat back in her chair and clasped her hands, completely relaxed.

"You want to know about my past? You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Try me. There's not much I haven't seen." That was an understatement.

"Very well." Standing up rather quickly, she strode to the stairwell. "I'll be back momentarily. Eat something, I pray you." And she left us alone. Mark looked at me, puzzled.

"What now? Are we seriously g-g-going to go through with this? We d-d-don't even know this guy. How can we k-k-kill him?" He asked in a nervous whisper.

"Relax, Mark," I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. "Right now the only person we're planning on killing is Saint Dane."

By this time, Speaker had returned, and under her arm was a very old chest, like a Victorian jewelry box. It even had an old silver lock. How quaint.

"In this chest I've kept all my mementos, from my early childhood to the time when I came to Cyahtvla."

"Hang on. You _came _to Cyahtvla? You're not from here?"

"That's right. Please, let me explain." Not a chance.

"How can you be the Traveler from Cyahtvla if you don't belong here?!" I exploded. "Mixing territories is a dangerous thing! You can't just waltz in and declare yourself a Traveler!" I swept my hand across the room. "Is any of this even native to this country? What'd you do, Fed-Ex everything to your royal kingdom??" I was on the verge of shouting. Mark quickly put a hand on mine to keep me seated. This gave Speaker a chance to reply. Her voice was only a hiss.

"I do belong here, thank you very much. And I'm not even going to ask what a Fed-Ex is. Everything you've seen is entirely Cyahtvlan in origin."

"Except _you!"_ She sat back, looking stunned. For a fleeting moment, I felt triumphant.

"You're right. I wasn't born here. But that doesn't mean I have no place in this world. Let me tell you how I came to be here." She leaned forward in her chair. "I want you to feel totally at ease with me, Traveler to Traveler." And with that, she reached behind her head and smoothly untied the ribbon. Soon her black mask sat in her lap, and we saw her face.

"My birth name is Alysia Mac. I am from Third Earth."


	4. Continuum

Chapter Four: Continuum

* * *

"My name is Alysia Mac. I am from Third Earth." We both gawked at the Cyahtvlan Traveler.

"Mac. You're Patrick's---"

"Sister, yes. His twin, to be exact."

"He never told me he had a twin!"

"He didn't know. But I have proof." She opened the unlocked chest and pulled forth a manila folder. "Records of our birth, tagged in the American seal. Alysia and Patrick Mac, 7.5 and 7.8 pounds respectively, 14.5 and 16 inches, respectively. Our parents, Neil and Ashley Mac, who mysteriously vanished on our twelfth birthday."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I know the same thing happened to yours." She went on hastily. "After our parents went missing, Patrick went to work at the library. But something strange happened to my brother. He began spending more and more time with this guy who was always going on about other worlds, science fiction stuff. Patrick began to believe it. Then one day, he said he would show us. I noticed my brother was wearing a new ring."

"The Traveler's ring…" Mark said in awe, gripping his own hand.

"Yes. The same ring we all wear. He took us underground. I was scared. But when he opened the door something magical happened. Something I still don't understand, even to this day. He said "Cloral" and we were transported to an amazing underwater realm. We thought it was the greatest day of our lives." Her voice turned bitter. "When we got back, he explained that Patrick was to be the Traveler from Third Earth."

"Who is this 'he' you keep talking about?" I said, fearing the worst. But surely Saint Dane wouldn't have helped them.

"I believe you know him. Your uncle. Press."

"No way!" Mark and I exclaimed, simultaneously. She smiled.

"Yes. Press was very enthused with my brother. Said he'd go far. But I wasn't resigned to being an acolyte. Within a week I'd run away. But I hadn't just left home. I was ready to travel on my own."

"Wait a minute. How could you do that without a Traveler?"

"I honestly don't know. Maybe some things are just meant to be." She shook her head and went back to the history. "From all that he'd told me, I naturally wanted to visit the other territories. I began at Veelox. Then Denduron. Then Zadaa. Finally, I visited Quillan, where Remudi told me of a place that seemed like paradise. An ancient world, he said, older and more cultural even than Xhaxhu. I craved to go."

"Cyahtvla."

"Exactly. I was almost sixteen. I'd learned a lot from all the places I'd lived. The other Travelers had, for the most part, been very patient with me. But they had their own problems. Turmoil was building in Halla. I had to find my place in it all, or else be swept away. But I couldn't go back to Third Earth, not after all I'd seen. I wasn't content with helping my twin brother. So I went to Cyahtvla." She paused again, and swirled her wine glass. "That was nearly three years ago. A lot has happened." She began to show us pictures, mostly of herself and the old Cyahtvlan Traveler, Nikolai. Nikolai had been her mentor, and when his wife died, she'd become his acolyte. Finally, he'd passed on the responsibility to her.

"He was an old man, but his skills were incredible. And not just fighting. He could win the hearts of people. He taught me everything I knew." Every now and then there was a picture of Katya.

"I was so lucky to find her. She was already working for the Yessler, and it was she who inspired me to begin this revolution, when our downfall became evident." She smiled, swallowing a slice of pear. "I love my fiancée very much."

"Fiancée?! You're both women!!"

"That's the beauty of it. One thing the government hates above all is homosexuality. Gay and lesbian couples don't reproduce, therefore, they are natural enemies of the Master Race." She rolled her eyes. "Well, that about completes my story."

"No it doesn't! How did you get to be in control of such a massive organization!"

She smiled at us again. Setting the wine glass back on the table, she reached for her mask.

"Did you really think I came up with all of this on my own?"

* * *

"I didn't create the Underground; I only organized it. Come with me, and I'll show you." We followed her back out the door, down the steps, and through the building until we were outside again. As we walked I was now able to notice the people. They were a diverse bunch. There was no ceremony here, no call to impress. Some wore running shorts and tee shirts, some had snappy tuxedos, and a rare few had on lab coats or scrubs. I got the feeling this operation spread all across Cyahtvla's class system.

"Did you eat?" Speaker asked me again. I nodded; I'd sampled a few of the choices, but what I really craved was a BLT with Lays. I knew that wasn't about to happen. Mark nodded too, though I noticed he'd only eaten the weird orange stuff that tasted like yams. Maybe it had essence of carrot or something, I thought amusedly. We were outside now, on turf that was golf-course green quality. I expected someone to yell FORE at any moment. For some reason my temper only improved as we strode onward, past several stucco buildings, to a particularly ornate stone building that looked like a Roman cathedral.

"Here is the Reapers' compound," Speaker explained, "Where we have our chapel, public library, and the café." I smiled. A church, internet, and java all in one building. I liked it.

"Up there of course is the dormitories, which are slightly more spacious than those of the Dragons and Biologists." She gestured up to the ceiling, along which ran a mahogany railing like in an old-timey cinema. You know, balcony seating.

"Cool stuff," I said. "Who are these people?"

"The Reapers were once a solitary gang, as were the Dragons and the Biologists. The Reapers' main talent was and still remains their ability to press money from unwilling corporations. Half the government owes our Reapers their jobs, and their security."

"Like the Mafia, demanding protection money," said Mark eagerly.

"Yes, in a way. They're excellent mathematicians, but they have an artistic flair, which is the main reason they agreed to join with me and the others. Come along, we haven't got time to explore," she said as I moved forward to examine the elaborate altar on which stood a golden cross.

"Cyahtvla has Christian symbols??" I asked in a whisper.

"Yes." Her face was still, and her voice quiet. "Did you really think yours was the only world to have religion? Open your eyes, Pendragon. There is a whole universe out there that is ruled by one entity alone. Why should we expect Him to remain faceless?" She paused, sizing me up. "Or are you really so daft as to think all that ever was, is, and will be is an accident? Why do you think we Travelers always say 'This is the way things were meant to be'?" Her words left me stunned.

"Err, can we go on? I'd like to hear more about these gangs, the Dragons and all." From the sound of his voice, Mark was as boggled as I was.

"Of course. Now if you'll follow me to the Dragons' compound. They are a proud sort, so don't be ashamed to stare.

Oh, and I should warn you, we're not all human here."


End file.
